


Shackles of Love

by Miss_Von_Cheese



Series: Rhy & Pu-rat-tu [4]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous idiot in love becoming paranoid, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Redefining relationships, happy endings, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 04:17:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17196368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Von_Cheese/pseuds/Miss_Von_Cheese
Summary: Nasir and Agron lead a peaceful life in their little community, but when a new German boy shows up and befriends Agron, Nasir discovers a brand new range of feelings he wasn't prepared for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set after War of the Damned, and following the fic [Simple Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17080097). You don't have to read it to understand, they can be read separately, but you can if you want more context. 
> 
> Thanks to Rose de Noire for their help with German translations.

It all started on a sunny day, a day that didn't seem to bear much significance at first. A late spring day like any other, when Nasir had lazily refused Agron's advances in the morning because his bladder demanded instant release and after sleeping together his needs for intimacy were fulfilled already. After spending a bit more than four happy years in each other's company, it surely was normal not to constantly devour each other, wasn't it? 

Nasir had gotten up, ignoring his lover's soft complaints with a smile, and tended to farm affairs after pissing outside the house. Their growing herd needed more and more attention every day. Two goats were pregnant, their old male was growing more territorial, and the milk production was a fruitful business that allowed them relative financial comfort. Everyday tasks had settled a comfortable routine that left them both satisfied and at peace. They often broke bread with inhabitants of the neighborhood farms, exchanged goods, wine, and pleasant stories at night. 

The hills had become a known refuge for travelers, free men who had not always been, and women with wounded pasts always found a home in Laeta and Sybil's growing house. Their little community was spreading into a village, and no one bothered them for they left the locals in peace. All troublesome affairs remained down in the city, by the sea, much to everyone's liking. 

That day, Nasir had brought the goats to a higher part of the hill to let them chew on greener grass and fertilize other areas. Agron had joined him for lunch with warm flatbread, onions, olives and dried meat, and they had taken a nap in each other's arms, under a tree. Scent of the pine and warm sun rays tickling their noses woke them up, shadow of a burn already visible over Agron's pale skin. Nasir had given the red spot a healing kiss before his lover had left to help Laeta with some work that required strength and someone his size. Until dawn, Nasir had surveilled the goats as well as the whole city, perched on the hill side where he could observe the whole region. 

It's only in the evening, as the sun set behind the horizon, that Nasir's day took a strange turn. He was carrying water buckets from the source, four at a time settled on a thick branch over his shoulders, when he came back to the sight of Agron, several of their neighbors enjoying wine together around campfire, and a new face in their little community. A blond boy with short wild hair, blue eyes, looking young despite his muscular frame. His clothes and the branded mark on his forearm proved his status as a former slave, too thin to be a gladiator. A boy like they had seen many times, in many cities. Not yet a man but who had lived under someone else's heel for too long. 

Something was bothering Nasir about him, but he could not find what, precisely. A fleeting impression, a foreign sentiment in his stomach. Agron seemed to enjoy the boy's company, he showed no defiance or coldness towards him, laughing with him, sharing drinks and stories. They already seemed in good terms even though Nasir was only laying eyes on him for the first time. When had he arrived? Nasir walked closer to the fire, accepted the cup of wine that was offered by known hands, when Agron noticed him and beamed, loving as always.

“Nasir!” he exclaimed, giving his lover a second of peace before he turned once again his attention to the newcomer. “Look! This is Tungri, he's just arrived. He is from Germany too!” 

The second Agron clapped the blond boy's shoulder in a complicit demonstration of Rhenan familiarity, Nasir felt a knot form in his stomach. 

He did not like it. 

He did not like the closeness between this new man and his husband. He hated with passion those wide smiles, those German expressions slipping in their speech, hands brushing each other's knees and sitting so close to one another. He hated it. For no reason.

“Hello,” Tungri said with a nod, slightly raising his cup. “Pleasure to meet you!”

“Evening,” Nasir gritted through clenched teeth, before he placed solemn hand on his lover's shoulder to set strict boundaries. “I am Nasir. Agron's husband.” 

He eyed the boy from head to toes and walked away, unconsciously trying to assert dominance with disdain. He barely distinguished Tungri ask “Warum bleibt er nicht bei uns? (Why does he not stay with us?)”, and Agron replying with a grin in his voice, “Ist er nicht gutaussehend? Ich liebe ihn so sehr! (Isn't he handsome? I love him so much!)”

Nasir stayed with the group for a short moment, unable to focus on conversations, or even look at the way Agron pampered the boy, treating him like a brother already, without feeling his heart about to burst. Every smile, every friendly look felt like Agron's large hands were twisting and crushing his heart. He apologized to their friends and retreated to his house, unable to comprehend the reason behind dark feelings.

Later that night, the moon was high when Agron finally joined him in their bed, having spent way too much time with his new friend. In the dark, Nasir let his hands roam free, kneading like a possessive cat. His nibbles turned into full bites, a sensation he knew Agron enjoyed, and he sucked flesh a little deeper to leave bruises that would bloom until dawn, marking his territory in the morrow. 

.

Nasir woke up early to the sound of leather and ropes being pulled. He blinked slowly, stretched his body already cooler, meaning Agron had left their cot a while ago. 

“My heart?” he mumbled sleepily. 

Agron was tying up his clothes in a fashion Nasir had not seen him embrace in a long time. Instead of comfortable farming outfit, Agron had opted for his old subligaculum, over which he wore a pair of large belts. Nasir propped himself up on an elbow.

“What are you doing?” 

“Sorry, I have to get up early I promised Tungri I would train him while he stays on the hill!” Agron announced with a wide grin before he leaned to plant a quick kiss on Nasir's lips. “Boy needs to learn to defend himself.”

Nasir felt his heart beat faster with… annoyance? Anger? He watched as Agron quickly adjusted his fitting loin cloth, which revealed absence of gladiator's training and the comfort of peaceful life had slightly expanded the girth of his waist. 

“Go back to sleep,” Agron whispered against his forehead. He kissed him one last time and disappeared in the morning fog, leaving Nasir's bed, arms, and heart empty. 

Nasir could not find sleep again, eyes refusing to close, heart beating too fast. He had a bad feeling. No, thousands of them. Never before had he felt such irrational anger towards one of his lovers’ friends but there was something about him. He was too kind, too warm, too blonde, too… German. He was everything Nasir was not, or so he felt at this very moment, and it made him furious beyond reasons. With a grunt, Nasir got up and fumbled to find his clothes. 

.

Nasir spent a good part of his morning trying to forget everything in the efforts of constant work. Rebellious horns and teeth brought him back to reality when, too far gone in thoughts, his milking became too rough. He pushed himself to his limits, carried way too heavy burdens, ran too fast, pulled huge rocks just to spend a fraction of his energy. A whole arena could not have quenched his thirst for a fight now. He hated feeling this bad. 

A wildfire burned in his chest and he could not tell why. Somehow, Nasir was certain the reason was this man. If he did not feel him, then there was a reason, probably a good one! This Tungri boy had things to hide, Nasir's intuitions could not be wrong about him. 

When he walked back to the farms, several men had gathered to train with Agron who was barking orders and encouraging them all to outdo themselves. Nasir stood for a moment, laying enamored gaze on the natural born leader he had let into his life. Agron waved his arms as he approached.

“Nasir! Come and show these men how to wield a sword!” he exclaimed, all smiles and tense muscles. 

Nasir frowned, hesitated for a second. He was about to accept when Tungri playfully kicked Agron and both started wrestling on the ground, battling for dominance in the dust. Nasir bit his lower lip at the sight. Why were those hands all over the place, why were they so sweaty and close? Why did it bother him so much? And most importantly, why could he not simply join them without feeling so upset? 

Tungri received a good lesson from his elder, pinned to the ground by stronger fists, and made a sign of surrender. He pointed at Agron's throat covered in purple marks. 

“Ihr Mann hat Sie heute Nacht markiert, uh? (Your man has marked you right last night, uh?)”

“Ich kann es nicht leugnen, ich bin seine kleine Schlampe. (I won't deny it, I'm his little bitch),” Agron replied with a dirty laugh. 

Nasir did not need to understand their words to feel his blood boil. He turned around and left in silence, furious beyond reason. All this talking, sweating, touching made his mind go blank in anger. The rest of his day was spent cutting wood with an axe until his entire body was sore from the effort. A fucking German axe, no less.


	2. Chapter 2

Days then weeks went by and Nasir's feelings did not settle. The more he saw Tungri, the more he wanted to push him away from Agron, throw him from a cliff or run over him with a horse. Intents he could not act upon, for the sake of reason and courtesy. He wanted to grab his husband and run, travel the seas and never come close to the blond devil again. 

Agron was still so warm and kind to him, he treated Nasir like his sun, he told him and showed he loved him but his words and gentle touch barely went through the thick fog in the Syrian's mind. 

Nasir had no reason to be so angry at Tungri who treated him with utter respect. He had no reason to flinch at Agron's touch but he could smell the scent of the other German on him, his husband reeked of that scum. The boy looked, and spoke, and laughed so much like him, Nasir felt like he was gazing at a younger Agron. Deep down he feared that instant complicity both men had established. In a few hours they had become the best of friends, bonded over their homelands, their native tongue, their memories… making Nasir feel like he had no place among them. 

The night was dark when Nasir woke up with a strange gut feeling. He felt his bed cold, his arms empty. Alone. Agron sneaking out at night, after falling asleep against him, Nasir could not think of a single explanation that did not involve the northern whore. Oh, how natural it felt to call him that in his mind! 

Nasir swiftly got up, naked as the day of his birth, gathered his favorite dagger for it still was the middle of the night, and walked out of the house. His senses were sharp despite his fatigue, yet blurred by the prism of his defiance for Tungri. His heart shattered when, walking as quietly as he could, like a nervous shadow, he caught a glimpse of his lover's trembling voice. His whole body tensed. 

“Ohhh… fuck the gods, I can't believe it!” Agron panted in the distance, voice breaking on what sounded like a sob. “Keep going, darling, you're doing great!” 

Nasir let out a shaky sigh. The dagger wiggled in his hand. What was he even going to do with it? He was unsure about it, like he was about his whole life was at the moment. Bitter stream of bile in his throat, he tiptoed behind the farm, following the voices to the smallest of their goat houses, the one they barely used anymore now that they had built a larger one. 

“Ah! Ja… Du bist eine starke Mutter! (Ah! Yes… you're a strong mother!)” Tungri's voice encouraged like he was going through some kind of fucking divine experience. 

Nasir contained a growl, he was fuming when he made an irruption in the tiny rock house. He planted himself in the doorway, trying to look stronger than he felt at the moment, and let his gaze embrace the scene lightened by two lamps. 

His lover and the boy were kneeling in the hay, around Habibi, the brown goat, assisting her in delivering her first born. Tungri kept stroking her flank, gentle voice soothing her, while Agron guided the baby out with his hands. Blood stains on his scarred wrists made Nasir flinch. Poor mother was struggling, soft bleats escaping her mouth. 

“You're doing great!” Agron whispered again, “You're a true champion, keep going… just a little more!” 

He sounded like he was about to cry and knowing him, Nasir knew he would soon. Agron had never had the guts to see one of their goats give birth before, leaving that -often nocturnal- task to women of the neighborhood and Nasir. 

“Gut mama, gut… gut mama,” Tungri chanted in a soft tone. His hands soon joined Agron's and they both helped the placenta covered little creature out of the womb and onto the hay. Together. Habibi weakly fumbled around to lick her little one clean, and only now both men raised their moved gaze to Nasir. 

“By the gods!” Agron choked with a huge stupid grin on his fucking face. He was in tears already. “Nasir, did you see that? We helped delivering the baby, it was... magical!” 

Nasir stood there, naked and face blank. Agron smiled at the boy, locked forearms like they had performed well in the arena. Agron had never wanted to take part in any of their previous deliveries and tonight he had sneaked out of the farm to do it with Tungri alone. 

“I was taking a piss,” the blond boy explained as if that northern witch could read his mind, “when I heard Abibi go into labour… I told Agron we should let you and the ladies rest and take care of the matter ourselves.” 

‘Abibi’… That was not her name, stupid fuck! Agron could not keep his eyes off of the young goat and her firstborn, even prouder than the actual mother. 

He repeated, voice breaking in a sob, “Did you see that, my heart?” 

Nasir heard himself reply, cold and distant, “Yeah. A goat giving birth, I saw that many times...” before he turned around and walked away, feeling farther from his husband than he had been in a long time. Like they had an ocean between them. A young and blond ocean. 

Later when he found his place behind him, his warm body following the curve of Nasir's back, Agron whispered, for he knew his lover was not asleep, “Did I do something to upset you, love of my life?” 

Nasir could only whisper dryly “I don't know!” and wipe away the silent tears rolling down his nose, hoping Agron would neither hear them nor talk about them. 

.

The sun was high in the sky, the city was buzzing with noise like it always was around noon. The port was full of people and opportunities, wide streets blessed with the smell of sizzling food and wine, and inside the biggest brothel in town, Nasir was drunk. 

This was no gentle dizziness like he often experienced at the farm when they all shared wine and stories of their old lives. He was heavily drunk. Drowned in wine. Shitfaced. Like a Menad at the end of a Bacchus celebration. His elbow kept rising and his cup kept emptying down his burning throat like there would be no tomorrow. 

That morning he had prepared his horse and told Agron he had business to attend in town. When Agron had offered to go with him, to spend a nice moment together, Nasir had not bothered replying, then pushed his horse to a fast stride.

Now his head was pounding, on the verge of explosion, his stomach swelled with cheap wine, and he wanted to cry. Or was he already? His face was wet, he could not tell with what, sweat or tears. A lovely Persian girl going by the name of Oksana was holding his arm and listening to his rant. Nasir reeked as he poured himself another cup. 

“Maybe you should slow down a little,” the dark haired girl suggested as she took the cup away. “And proceed towards harmless pleasures, don't you think?” 

She moved her hips like a pretty grass snake when she got up and tenderly moved hair out of Nasir's sweaty brow. With a gentle smile she brushed her round breasts on his face to try lifting up his mood. Nasir leaned into her touch like a slave from the mines deprived from affection for too long, as if he had not spent the night in his lover's arms. 

“These are the prettiest tits I've ever seen,” Nasir slurred, “Yet they compare in no way to my husband's chest…” 

Memories of Agron's strong chest under his cheek turned his mind upside down once again and he burst out crying, unable to stop the stream of his tears. Oksana took his hand and guided him to a quiet room. With a gentle smile she settled on the bed and held him in her arms, rocking him like a child, singing a lullaby of her own. 

“You seem to love him, this husband you cannot stop talking about.” 

“He is my whole life,” Nasir whined, cheek resting on her soft breast. “And I'm losing him to a… a… blond little boy who speaks his tongue!” 

“The bastard cheated on you?” Oksana asked, sincerely shocked that anyone would betray such a gorgeous man --or one that would be gorgeous with a little less wine in his body. 

“Worse!” Nasir cried like a wounded animal. “They helped our goat deliver her baby. Together!” 

He did not see the confusion on the girl's brow, only heard her puzzled “Ah…” before he passed out in a drunk haze.

.

He woke up hours later, feeling less drunk and just as miserable. With a groan he looked at the prostitute tending to him. She was brushing her fingers on his hair with a soft smile, caring as a mother. 

“What time is it?” he slurred, mouth dry from too much drinking. 

“Time for you to go back to your husband’s arms,” Oksana replied, bringer of truth. 

Nasir rolled to his feet more than he got up, and stretched his sore back. “What am I going to do?” 

He poured himself a cup of water, rinsed his mouth full of sand. This whole affair with Tungri had made him spend the day drunk in a brothel, in a woman's bed. At least he had not touched her, or so he hoped, as he could never forgive himself for abusing any innocent body. This was bad, yet he had no idea how to regain control over his life when it was such a mess. As he watched Oksana apply red powder on her cheekbones and adjust jewels around her curves, an idea came to mind. 

“How much for that chain? And…”

He had to fight in every way he could. Before he would slit impudent throat, he had to help Agron remember why he had been drawn to him in the first place. Four longs years of battles together, years of love, fights and flights, months of tender care and lust would not be wiped away by some pale kid hands. 

“... may I require some more of your time?” Nasir asked shyly as he searched for coins in his purse. Oksana raised a curious eyebrow, and he explained, “I’m going to seduce that handsome bastard again. Could you help me with my hair?” 

The girl got to her feet with an excited grin, clapping her hands, happy to be paid for a more pleasant task than she usually had to perform. “Yes! I could also teach you a few tricks to make your man refuse to ever leave your bed again.” 

Nasir took a deep breath, unsure of what the proposal would imply, but ready to agree nonetheless. 

.

The sun was setting over the horizon, sky burning like a reflection of Nasir’s heavy heart, a sight even more beautiful from the hill. Nasir was wearing a cloak to hide his figure, riding towards the farm from a different path to avoid meeting his neighbors yet. He wanted to go back home quickly, in the hope that Agron was not again with his fucking German cousin. Then execute his plans to keep him there all night if needed. 

The farm was empty but lamps were burning, proving his husband would not be gone for long. Nasir removed his cloak and all his clothes, keeping only the golden chains he had just purchased. They held his shoulders, made a cross over his chest then embraced his waist, links dancing, clinking as he moved. He quickly untied the braids Oksana had formed with his wet hair, ran his hands in his emphasized natural curls. With the lines of khul darkening his eyes and lashes, he looked like a Babylonian whore, and he would act like one in hope for Agron to never look away again. 

He would lead the battle in the bedroom first, then defend his territory with a sword, or bare handed if needed. And he was right to think that way, everyone on the hill would agree with him, if he actually took the time to talk to them. Which he did not for he was too upset by the German boy. 

Agron stepped into the house, still chuckling from some joke that must have fallen from the blond idiot’s mouth. His breath caught in his throat as he took sight of his lover, and he dropped the pot he was carrying on the floor. de Surprise mixed to lust on his handsome face, making Nasir feel powerful. 

Nasir was about to murmur something decadent when Agron kicked the door shut with his foot and walked to him with an ecstatic sigh. “Hnnff, I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I really want to be the next...”

“The next?” Nasir frowned, puzzled. 

“The next thing to get into you,” Agron growled, leaning in to kiss him hard. Nasir melted against his mouth, feeling weak under this passion, the flames of their desires left unphased by external events for a moment. He arched in Agron’s arms, pushed him away as strong hands found his ass. 

“No, wait!”

The possessive look on Agron’s face as he was rejected turned Nasir on way more than expected. This was something he should do more often, push his husband away to make him crave his touch. Nasir placed his hands on Agron's hips and knelt, dark eyes casting their most devoted look upon his godly figure. Agron choked as Nasir started biting his thighs, promising for a memorable night.

The lamps were done burning for a long time when they finally found sleep in each other’s arms, entwined like they used to as new lovers before Vesuvius. Nasir rested his cheek on Agron’s soft chest, calmed by the beating of steady heart. Their embraces had reminded him of the love his husband felt for him, a love that could never be replaced. Shadows of the night shielded him from Tungri and his evil influence, he could sleep in peace. Yet he had not forgotten to raise his voice, loud and clear, both on giving and receiving end, to make sure the whole hill knew they still belonged to each other. 

In the morning, before he went to train the men, Agron kissed Nasir’s neck with a happy smile. “I am relieved to feel you at peace, my heart. I could not stand the impression that I did you wrong, and not to know what I did.” 

Nasir simply nuzzled his cheek in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Oksana is definitely a reference to the show Marco Polo. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The older I get, the more I realize my biggest kink is men acknowledging and talking about their feelings. ^^" Anyway, here's the final part of this silly little story.

Gentle feelings remained for a moment, peace floating around him like a delicate daw. Nasir felt confident, loved, appreciated. Their bond was strong and thick as a solid rope, it would not be broken so easily by someone who could not even wield a sword. Neither would he let doubt darken his heart, not when he could still make a whimpering mess of Agron with his hips. 

He felt good, rested, at ease. Comfortable and happy. Until he was not anymore. 

As soon as he headed back to the farms in the afternoon, with his herd, slowed down by goatlets attacking his shins, from the moment he saw few men sparring on the field, good mood was once again buried under gloomy feelings. Agron was holding Tungri by the shoulders, sharing this same laughter, these same words he did not understand. Nasir marched to them with a scowl. He would not refuse training this time, and the boy would feel his anger in his guts before he’d even notice it. Nasir jumped over the fence then ran to them, grabbing Agron by the neck to kiss him raw. 

“So that’s the winner’s trophy?” one of the Gauls laughed. “I understand why Agron never loses.” 

“Nassir, will you finally train with us?” Tungri asked with his unbearably thick accent, a hand on Nasir’s shoulder. “I’ve heard so much about your skills, I wanna learn…” 

Nasir’s skin crawled at the touch, fingers on his flesh too much to bear at the moment. All his anger from previous days resurfaced as the blond scum dared to touch him and invade his private space. How could he allow himself to grab him, he was not as easy to seduce as Agron! Nasir pushed him away with a roar, closed fist barely missing ugly face. 

As he stormed away, outraged to have been reached by such unholy hands, Nasir heard the boy stutter, “Wh- what did I do? Is he mad at me?” 

Agron tried to hold him back, a hand on his wrist, but Nasir shook it off and spat, looking into Tungri’s confused eyes so that both traitors clearly understood intent, “Verpiss’ dich!” 

And he walked away with the stride of raging bull, as well as the energy of a warrior he had not released for way too long. He hoped to find comfort in their house, or to go unleash his rage on some tree stumps, but Agron would not have it this time. Instead of making himself smaller in shame of disappointing beloved ones, the former gladiator followed his husband inside and stood of all his height in the door frame, a serious frown furrowing his brow.

“Leave me alone!” Nasir ordered, waving his hand like he would chase a fly, before Agron’s thunderous voice shook him.

“Enough!” Agron’s shoulders tensed and his face reflected his anger now. “Enough of this, you will listen to me now, little man!” 

Nasir’s eyes narrowed at the words that bore no tenderness in this very moment. He closed his fists, face flustered, humiliated by the insult. “You…” 

“No, you.” Agron cut him off with all his handsome furor. “You have been unreadable for weeks now! You are angry with me and I do not know why, and I am ready to face the consequences of my actions, whatever I did you wrong but... this? Tungri never deserved such treatment, he gave you from the start the respect you deserve! He keeps praising me for finding such lovely husband only to be insulted this way? Have you lost fucking mind?” 

Nasir let out a frustrated snarl, ready to fight that imbecile that stood taller and definitely much more stupid than him. “I have not! I am merely protecting my property!” 

“Your property?” Agron asked, an eyebrow raised. “When he lives in another house?” 

Nasir felt the breaking point in his heart. The moment he lost control. Similar to that instant when one dives and feels their feet leave the ground. A point from which he could not come back. As he shouted, the words burned his throat for he knew how wrong they were. Tears stung his eyes, voice bubbling in his mouth. And yet he could not contain the flow, pointing at the one he loved so dearly.

“You, Agron. You are mine. Don’t you go forget that between his white thighs! You are mine, we built this life together, you belong to me whether this northern shit likes it or not!” His fist connected to Agron’s chest, more like a desperate plea than a punch. “You belong to me!” 

Nasir regretted the words as soon as they had flown out of his mouth like a swarm of birds, impossible to catch back. Shame washed over him as he realized what he had just said, and all the things he felt, the sentiments shackling his heart for so long. For a fleeting moment he feared Agron would just leave, walk away and leave him alone with his hubris. But his lover crossed his arms with a smirk and leaned against the doorframe. This monster seemed to find the situation funny. 

“Do you hear yourself,” Agron asked, “Or do I need to repeat your own words for you?” 

“What?” Nasir pouted, upset by his attitude. “Is it not my birthright to protect my man?” 

“This is not what you said. You were talking about me like you owned me,” Agron smirked, shaking his head, before he added with a pointed finger. “Because you, Nasir, you all of men, are jealous right now.” 

“I am not jealous!” Nasir protested with a shrug, what a dumb idea his husband had this time. “I am angry because… because…” 

For a moment he could not find words, nor voice reasons that made him hate the boy so much, and yet he knew they existed. 

“You are jealous of Tungri and me,” Agron laughed. “This is a sight I never thought I’d witness one day.” 

Nasir took a deep breath, flexing his muscles with a defiant look. “Am I not right to be? Have you seen the way he looks at you? The way he smiles, how he wrestles with you. I cannot bear anymore of his hands on you.” 

“You have seen me wrestle many men before, you saw me and my Brothers of the arena, Tungri is not the first friend I have. Am I forbidden from having friends now, dominus?” 

“You talk together in ways I cannot understand,” Nasir growled, upset to tears. “You drink and lean into each other, you… you delivered a baby together!” 

Agron raised a cocky eyebrow, bulging arms crossed over his chest. “Oh, what happened to ‘They are no babies, they are meat’? I guess this has changed too? We speak our mother tongue, that we were robbed of by Romans, like any friends would. Tell me one thing I did that could have sparked doubt in your heart, and I shall apologize sincerely, but I fear you won’t find a single one. You are jealous of a mirage Nasir.”

“No,” Nasir moaned, shaking his head. He ran his fingers in his hair, heart racing in his chest. “This is no mirage, I know what I saw.” 

“What do I do with him that I did not with any of my brothers?” Agron insisted, taking a step forward.

Nasir took a step back, ran trembling fingers down his own face. “No… he is not your friend, I am not insane. I would not be angry at you for having a friend. Never. I know what I feel.” 

“You are not mad, my heart, you are burdened with jealousy. And I feel sorry for you.” 

“Shut up!” Nasir barked. “I am not. I know what I saw. You were ridiculously irrational and possessive when you were jealous, this is nothing like now.”

And as Agron leaned back against the wall, with that grin he had like he knew everything, all white teeth and dimples, Nasir realized he was being ridiculous, possessive and irrational, he had been for weeks now. Agron had never done anything to hurt him, his own reactions to innocent actions had burdened his heart beyond reasons. He blinked slowly, looked up. 

“If you did nothing wrong, why do I feel so hurt?” Nasir demanded, still upset with his own confusion. 

Agron framed his lover’s face with his hands, planting a warm kiss on his lips. “What has gotten into you, Nasir? Why did you lose your mind over me and my friend, when he tried so hard to be nice to you? He is out there, upset, not knowing why you hate him so much.”

“Because he is German!” Nasir yelped, still close to Agron. “Because he looks like you, he talks like you, and I don’t!” 

Agron bit his lower lip with one of those smiles that could have sent Nasir over the moon. “So? If I wanted to keep fucking myself I would have remained alone instead of bonding with my stubborn little man.” 

Nasir closed his eyes. He felt a tear roll down the wing of his nose, warm lips catching it before it reached the corner of his mouth. He tilted his head, begging for a kiss that came gentle, reassuring. Agron ran his hands behind his head to hold him, demonstrating how despite Nasir’s harsh words he would always remain by his side, in pleasure and pain. 

“How do you feel?” Agron whispered against his ear, holding him in a warm embrace. 

“Hurt,” Nasir sobbed. “Afraid… I could not stand to lose you.” 

“You never risked losing me to him, my heart, never. All these things I did with him, we could have shared together, had you tried to get to know him. I never wanted you to feel set aside.” 

“It hurts so much. Knowing that… that you’re a free man, that you could leave with anyone you want,” Nasir sighed, clinging to his lover, fear a cold pit in his stomach. “I always thought death would part me from you, not someone else.” 

“I know it hurts,” Agron nodded, hands brushing his lover’s neck, shoulders and arms. “Trust me, I know. Jealousy hurts like hell. There has been days I wished I did not love you at all if I could avoid those feelings.” 

Nasir looked down, rested his forehead in the hollow of Agron’s sternum. The smell of loved skin slowly made him go back to his senses, and finally feel the fear behind anger. Furor and possessive feelings only hid despair and vulnerability. Nasir ran his hands up his husband’s flat stomach. 

“I have been so mean to you.” 

“It was not the first time,” Agron joked. He pulled Nasir to him, held his thighs to lift him up against the wall. Nasir secured his legs around his lover’s waist and his arms on his shoulders so that they could be even. 

“You have mostly been blind,” Agron then added, covering him with soft kisses and touch that sought no more than to give love and affection. “How could you not notice Tungri was fucking Sybil from the start? She would not have offered him to live with them if she had not met him on the beach and been seduced.” 

“Are you serious?” Nasir frowned, unable to believe words. 

Agron let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. “By the gods! Your thoughts of me with another man really melted your brains! They are to marry next week, you’re invited by the way.” 

He then paused, gave Nasir a serious look before sealing his words with a kiss.

“I am a free man, my love, and only I can decide whom I bed. I can leave whenever I want, yet my choice is to stay, for I’ve never felt safer than by your side. I love waking up next to you, spending time with you. I told you already but I can repeat myself every day if needed, I want to grow old with you, and your jealousy, and… oh, and that thing you did with your tongue last night, I could grow old with that too.” 

Now that words sweet as honey reassured his broken heart, Nasir felt ashamed of his own behavior. He had acted like a petulant child, playing tyrant with his beloved husband. Why was it so difficult to say he was afraid? Voice his concerns, listen to his guts, instead of hiding behind anger and violence? 

“I am sorry,” he mumbled against Agron’s throat, nuzzling his warm skin. “My being terrified of losing you did not give me the right to put you on a leash. I do not know why I reacted to Tungri so viscerally.” 

Agron took a step back, putting his lover down. He stroked his forehead with two fingers, brushed his own chin, lost in thoughts. “You know what, love? Your words make me realize I do not consider him as merely a friend.” 

In the fleeting moment Agron needed to catch his breath, Nasir’s heart stopped in fear. A fear he knew irrational but still there. Feelings he hoped would eventually fade with time and tender attentions. 

“I love him more than most my friends,” Agron admitted with a nod. “He reminds me of Duro, and somehow I might have tried to replace him, for his absence is a wound that will never be fully healed.” 

Nasir ran a hand behind his husband’s neck, pulled him close. “Are we not a pair of beautiful disasters?” 

“I hate how you made me feel aware of these emotions,” Agron reproached with a sigh. He looked troubled by the new perspectives this discussion had opened.

“Says the man who had to scold me like a child to open my eyes to my own feelings.” 

Agron curled his fingers on Nasir's hip, let his hands slide on the curves of his ass. “You were acting like one. Perhaps you needed a good spanking.”

Nasir laughed for his lover's so-called punishments always were more fun than pain. He slid between his fingers to escape his grip. “I need to talk to Tungri first. Poor boy must be so confused.”

Agron nodded but caught him back into his arms for one last warm kiss. Nasir felt large hands trace his contours like they had memories to make. “I love you, little man. More than you can imagine.” 

Nasir let his lips reply before he walked out of the small house, nervous about how he would manage to apologize to Tungri. He had been unfair to him, cruel even. He would understand if the German did not want to ever exchange words with him.

His gait was uncertain, hands fidgeting with his belt. When he joined the field, he saw Tungri kissing Sybil hungrily, his hands on her back. A sight he had probably chosen to ignore in the previous days, too obsessed with his jealous feelings. Fewer men trained in the field now but Nasir did not feel like exposing their reconciliation so openly. He grabbed a wooden sword, threw another to Tungri who caught it with a smile.

“Show me what you can do?” Nasir invited. To his surprise, the boy quickly jumped to his feet, as if he had waited for this moment. 

“Agron told me so much about your skills,” Tungri exclaimed. “Be patient with me, will you? I am just starting…” 

When the swords clashed for the first time, Nasir noticed Agron a few feet away who asked him in silence not to be too rough. He promised with a wink he would not manhandle the boy too heavily. Nasir kept his hits light but his moves fast enough to impress his young trainee. Every time Tungri tried to attack, Nasir blocked his blows with ease and returned them against his opponent. After ten minutes of sparring, Nasir swiped the German off his feet and pinned him to the ground, one knee on his chest. 

Tungri raised a hand, two fingers pointed in sign of reddition. “I surrender,” he panted with a smile. “You're as good as he said.” 

“I can teach you if you desire so,” Nasir shrugged then stuck his tongue out. “But I never was a gladiator, these surrender signs are of no use against me.”

He planted the wooden sword in the ground, lowered his voice after checking nobody could hear them.

“Apologies for the despicable way I treated you lately. I misunderstood intent.”

Tungri raised his eyebrows. “Intent? I-- was I ever rude to you? If I did, it was not on purpose, my knowledge of common tongue has its limits and…”

“No, I… I had come to the conclusion you were fucking my husband,” Nasir admitted. “I now realize I was wrong.”

The German's mouth opened on a loud gasp. “Are you serious?” 

He got up as Nasir helped him to his feet, looking sincerely surprised and shocked by the revelation. For a moment he remained silent then shook his head. “Sybil invited you to our wedding, it’s next week!”

Nasir had a sorry smile. “She invited me to her wedding, that is all I understood. They say love is blind but I feel like jealousy is even more. There is a lot that I missed, thinking my love would be taken away from me.” 

“No wonder you were so angry with me,” Tungri chuckled. “I am lucky to be still alive. You could have destroyed me… I would have, if I had been in your position.” 

“Would you please not encourage his murderous instincts?” Agron sighed behind them. 

Nasir handed his leather gourd to Tungri. “Did Agron tell you about that time he beat a man, who had held my arm and complimented me, until his face was covered in blood? And when he went to a suicide mission because he thought I wanted another than him?” he added as both his friends remained silent. 

Agron gave his ass a playful slap. “Ich habe nie gesagt ich wäre perfekt!”

Nasir almost pouted but before he had time to complain, Tungri translated with a grin, promising for a resourceful friendship, “I never said I was perfect. At least he says so.”

.

Nasir was having his best night of sleep in a month when he startled, shoulder shaken by careful hands. 

“Wake up, Halwa is going into labour!” Agron announced with a joyful smile. “Come with me, we shall assist her” 

Nasir was not particularly happy to be roused from such good sleep but his husband's excitement and their renewed trust were worth the trouble. He could not contain a deep sigh when Agron proudly announced “I can't believe we're having another baby!”, and started thinking about the amount of fish they were going to buy to make up for all the meat they would soon stop eating.


End file.
